


We Like It

by august_anon



Series: Like It [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Tickling, ticklish!Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/august_anon/pseuds/august_anon
Summary: Geralt wants to test out a few things that Jaskier showed him the other day, and it just so happens that he's decided to make Jaskier his test subject.Warning: This is a tickle fic!!!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Like It [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691212
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	We Like It

**Author's Note:**

> I got an ask AGES ago (I posted it in May 2020 but I had been hoarding it for weeks and maybe even months before that so who knows HOW old it is lol) that said:
> 
> "Ahh! Maybe I like it too was so cute!! I’m not sure if you’re taking prompts right now but I’d love to see Geralt use the new info about feathers or raspberries against Jaskier. And to Jaskier’s horror (or delight) Geralt’s scruff makes the raspberries 10 times worse than they have any right to be!"
> 
> And I finally finished this fic a couple months ago and I'm finally remembering to post it now lol. Whoever that anon was, I hope they can forgive me for the wait lol

They were staying with Yennefer for a few days as Geralt handled a particularly tricky contract, which of course meant living in the lap of luxury. Steaming baths that never cooled, rich and hearty meals, soundproofed rooms, fluffy beds that you just melted into, it was everything Jaskier was missing; and while Geralt pretended he couldn’t care less, Jaskier knew he was enjoying the brief stint of luxury as well.

The contract for the curse finally handled, they had one more night in their wonderfully soft bed before Geralt wanted to head out on the road again, so they took advantage of it while they could. 

They took one of those steaming baths, smelling sweet and fresh, and returned to their bed, smooth, fresh sheets awaiting them, changed on the daily. They stripped down to only their smallclothes to head to bed. Yennefer’s wards meant they would be kept safe enough that they needn’t worry about monsters or ambushes, so they could experience the full cuddling experience, all that warm skin soothing the touch-starved itch they both carried.

But even as Jaskier climbed into bed, prepared to hold his witcher close and relax, Geralt did not follow. Instead, he stared at their packs in the corner, humming thoughtfully.

“Geralt,” Jaskier whined. “I’m cold, come here.”

Geralt hummed again, walking over to their packs and rummaging through them briefly as Jaskier continued to whine and moan about the lack of cuddles currently happening. He immediately brightened when Geralt finally made his way toward the bed, sliding onto it and pulling Jaskier close.

“What did you need that could  _ possibly _ be more important than me?” Jaskier teased, burrowing into Geralt’s side.

“A weapon.”

Jaskier sat up, bewildered. “A  _ weapon _ ? You’ve brought a weapon into our  _ bed _ ? Geralt, why could you possibly need--”

Jaskier cut himself off with a yelp as Geralt rolled over and on top of him, straddling his hips. His hands were quickly gathered up in one of Geralt’s and pinned above his head. In the moments it took Jaskier’s brain to process this, Geralt pulled his “weapon” out from behind his back and brandished it at Jaskier.

Jaskier’s own feather quill.

Jaskier sucked in a breath, already feeling his cheeks beginning to burn. “Now, Geralt,” he tried, squirming under him, “let’s talk about this.”

“You taught me some valuable information the other day,” Geralt said. “I’m just trying to see it in practice.”

Jaskier started giggling prematurely as the feather started looming ever-closer, butterflies swarming in his stomach. “You saw it in practice when I used it on you!”

“And now I’m going to see it in practice on you.”

Geralt started easy, thankfully, touching the feather down on one of Jaskier’s exposed shoulders and slowly brushing it towards his neck. Jaskier was able to keep his composure until the feather started trailing up the side of his neck, and his face crumpled and scrunched up trying to hold his laughter at bay.

He’d never been very good at that.

All it took was a particularly deliberate wiggle of the tip of the feather behind his ear and Jaskier cracked, tumbling into bubbly giggles. He didn’t bother trying to defend himself by scrunching up or trapping the feather, Geralt always found a way around his meager defenses, so he simply squirmed around on the bed to satisfy the urge to do so.

Geralt twisted the feather in his ear, much like Jaskier had done to him barely a week ago, and he went from cracked to  _ shattered _ . That tickled more than Jaskier ever in his  _ life _ imagined it could, and he wouldn’t even call his neck and ears bad spots! Jaskier shrieked at the soft tickling and jerked away, finally trying to escape for real.

“Geralt,” he cried through his giggles, becoming ever more high-pitched. “Geralt. No!”

Geralt simply hummed above him and moved to give his neck and ears the same treatment on the other side. It was pure torture in the best of ways, Jaskier both loving it and wanting it to stop  _ immediately _ . Geralt was unfairly good at this for someone who tickled someone for the first time ever barely a _ month _ ago.

“I love your laugh,” Geralt said quietly, probably hoping Jaskier wouldn’t hear him over his squeaks and wild giggles.

“I love yours more!” Jaskier squealed as he jerked away from a brush of the feather against the shell of his ear.

“Well,” Geralt said, voice light and teasing, “I never said  _ you _ had good taste.”

Jaskier let out an affronted noise that turned into an odd keening-giggle as Geralt began dragging the feather down the delicate skin of his upper arm, aiming for his armpit. He foolishly tugged at his arm, but Jaskier should’ve known better. He was no match for a witcher’s strength.

“Geralt, come on!”

“Why?” And  _ oh _ , Jaskier loved to hate that wicked grin. “You like this.”

And by this point, it was no longer a question. It was a simple statement. Jaskier wasn’t sure which was worse, but he definitely felt his cheeks flush under Geralt’s gaze. They flushed even further -- though this time with laughter -- as the feather touched down in Jaskier’s armpit.

“Seeing this in practice is truly quite interesting.”

“Shut up--shit!”

Jaskier tossed his head back in loud laughter as Geralt dropped the feather and dug his fingers into Jaskier’s highest rib. Using that distraction, Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s wrists from where he had them trapped and pulled them down, pinning them under his knees. Jaskier’s stomach filled with butterflies as he realized Geralt now had  _ two  _ hands free to torment him with.

“You enjoy testing things on me, I should return the favor. Tell me, bard: which is worse?”

And then Geralt picked up the feather with one hand and readied his fingers on the other, sending both careening for his stomach. Jaskier tried to suck his stomach in, as if that would save him, but the second Geralt touched down, it was a lost cause as he started laughing again.

Geralt scratched to the side of his belly button with his free hand, his blunt fingernail making Jaskier’s nerves light up an unfair amount. On the other side of Jaskier’s belly button, he fluttered the feather in the mirrored spot, making Jaskier wish he had more room to thrash for his freedom. Each sensation was completely maddening and unbearable in it’s own way, and Jaskier didn’t know if he wanted to escape or let it go on forever.

“Well?”

“The feather!” Jaskier cried after a few more moments. “The feather!”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully and Jaskier squealed as the feather took a brief trip  _ inside _ Jaskier’s belly button before Geralt found his next target: Jaskier’s hipbones. He scooted down to sit on Jaskier’s thighs to reach them, but his legs were unfortunately still long enough to keep Jaskier’s hands pinned easily. On one side, fingertips vibrated deeply into the skin and muscle, making Jaskier near-howl. On the other, the feather danced across the sharp bone with its maddeningly-light touch. 

Jaskier was thankful that Yennefer had the foresight to soundproof her rooms. Tomorrow would be quite the embarrassing morning, otherwise.

“And here?” Geralt asked, emphasizing his question by intensifying the tickling on both sides.

“Fingers!” Jaskier shrieked.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately?) that made Geralt drop the feather and start vibrating his now-freed fingers into the other hip. Then Jaskier was  _ really _ howling, trying to buck his hips but being unable to get the leverage needed to do so. He could try and sit up to curl in on himself for protection, but Jaskier had the feeling that his ab muscles weren’t really looking to cooperate with how hard he was currently laughing.

After some minutes of that playful torture, Geralt picked up the feather quill once more. He danced and fluttered it along Jaskier’s pantline, making his eyes bulge out of his skull at the gentle touch. He choked out a mix of a squeal and a giggle, making Geralt let out a rumbling chuckle above him.

Then, as Geralt was searching for his next spot, the impossible happened: Jaskier finally managed to wiggle his hands free. They launched out from under Geralt’s knees, shooting directly for Geralt’s hands. Geralt tried to fight them off, but Jaskier managed to capture Geralt’s hands and interlace their fingers, the feather fluttering uselessly to the bed next to them.

“What now, tough guy?” Jaskier teased, though the effect was likely diminished by the fact that he was panting for breath.

Geralt furrowed his brow in thought and Jaskier’s heart fluttered. He sent an appraising look to Jaskier’s stomach before starting to lean down, and Jaskier started squealing before he even got close.

“Wait--wait, wait, no! Geralt, please, anything but that!”

Geralt chuckled. “I thought you liked fruit,” he said.

And then Jaskier was lost to wheezing cackles as Geralt took a deep breath, lowered his mouth to Jaskier’s stomach ( _ right _ on his sensitive belly button) and blew. It tickled like all hell. In fact, it tickled worse than any raspberry had any right to, thanks to Geralt’s stubble.

“You need to  _ shave _ !” Jaskier shouted through his laughter.

Geralt let out a little “oh” of realization before diving back in for another raspberry, but this time shaking his head as he blew. The result was a screaming Jaskier, tears of mirth being squeezing from his eyes, as his stomach vibrated with ticklish sensations, got scraped by stubble, and even got tickled by feather-light brushes of hair that had fallen from Geralt’s half-hearted styling.

After a few more of those wonderfully hellish raspberries, Geralt pulled back.

“I want to try something,” he said.

Jaskier let out an incredulous laugh, having nothing to do with his residual giggles. “Let me catch my breath first, darling. Shit.”

“Did I go too far?”

Jaskier shook his head. “No, no. You were wonderful, dear heart, I just need a moment. Not sure how much I have left in me, either.”

Geralt hummed.

After a few moments, his breath having returned, Jaskier nodded. “What is it you wanted to try?”

Geralt climbed off Jaskier’s legs, lifting one up into the air. Jaskier furrowed his brow, but his eyes then went wide as Geralt brushed a hand over his inner thigh before leaning in slightly and looking to Jaskier for permission.

“Oh fuck,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Alright, but stop when I tell you.”

Geralt nodded, and then his lips were swiftly attached to Jaskier’s inner thigh as he blew a raspberry. Jaskier’s laughter went silent almost immediately, the sensations so overwhelming that he couldn’t even make a sound. He howled and screamed, but no sound left his lips to indicate his tortured state. After a few small raspberries dotted across his thigh, Geralt shifted himself for a better angle and gave a repeat performance on his untouched leg.

Jaskier was able to stand it until Geralt began digging tickling fingers into whatever thigh wasn’t currently being targeted by his lips. As much fun as it all was, it was too much for him to take. He slapped his hand against the bed a few times, and Geralt immediately stopped. Jaskier panted desperately for breath as Geralt firmly rubbed away the remaining tingles from his mouth and fingers.

“Alright?”

Jaskier laughed. “Alright?” He asked. “Alright?! I’m fucking incredible, dear. Now, come down here and cuddle me. I’m going to fall asleep at any moment now.”

Geralt did as he was told, shuffling back up the bed and laying next to Jaskier, pulling the furs and bedsheets over the top of them. They exchanged a few chaste goodnight kisses until Jaskier was too drowsy to even move his lips in response anymore, and settled down against the expensive pillows to finally rest.

Jaskier’s revenge could easily wait until the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Check out my other works, and feel free to come hang out with me on tumblr at august-anon! We can talk about giggly geraskier together lol


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